


Planets in Alignment

by IneffableFangirl_writes



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angry Sex, F/M, not missing scene as much as corrected scene, syzergy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-23 11:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23843950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableFangirl_writes/pseuds/IneffableFangirl_writes
Summary: Instead of Detective White in Mulder's room and Scully smoking in her room alone, I fixed it. Because come on, angry sex.Taken from the backlog of fic on my computer, brought to you by quarantine.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 42





	Planets in Alignment

Blowing an angry stream of cigarette smoke, Scully clicked the remote button, changing the channel though the show remained the same black and white crap with an irritating soundtrack. Click. It was off. Standing up, she took a forceful drag on the cigarette and began pacing the room.

“Detective White could use our help,” she mimicked, pulling open the blinds to look out at the empty parking lot. _ Bastard.  _ She blew the smoke at the blinds and released them, taking another drag.

“She’s just trying to solve this case.”

Another drag, another exhale, the cigarette pinched tight between her middle and pointer finger. The lit end glowed with the force of her breath.

“She’s just trying…”

Turn. Inhale. Turn again. Blow smoke.

“Detective White…”

_ Son of a bitch. _

Another long drag, filling her lungs with smoke, then an exhale. Nothing. Even nicotine wasn’t going to quench her rage. She was already pacing and smoking, just raring for a fight. Hell, if Mulder wanted a fight, she was going to give him one. Not bothering to put down the cigarette, she yanked her door open and walked into the hall, her fist raised to bang on the door of the room next to hers.

In the room next to her, Mulder drank orange juice concentrate mixed with vodka out of the bottle and pointed the remote at the TV again, rotating it this way and that to try and change the movie. It was on every channel. And Scully was pissed at him. Fucking spectacular way to spend an evening.

Rap rap rap.

_ Thank God. Maybe it’s her. _

Bottle in one hand, he looked through the peephole in the door and set the bottle down on the TV.

_ Speak of the devi _ l, he mused to himself, and undid the chain.

She had a cigarette between two fingers and was sucking air through it at a rate that couldn’t be healthy--or even more unhealthy than the act of smoking itself. He’d never seen her smoke. Was she a smoker just when she was angry? She looked angry.

“Scully,” he said, and picked the bottle of orange-slush mixed with vodka. By the look on her face, he was going to need it. He set it down atop the TV to open the door. As she blew a stream of smoke at him, it struck him how between the smoke and the fire in her eyes, she looked remarkably (and rather frighteningly) like a dragon.

“What brings you here?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

She pushed past him and into the room. Turning, he let the door close and picked the bottle back up, taking a swig. 

“Scully?”

“I can deal with your crap usually Mulder but this is just over the top and it’s fucking insulting.”

_ Whoa. Smoking and swearing. _ He took another drink. He was surprised that she wasn’t foaming at the mouth, though if he gave her a minute, it was possible she’d get there.

“Let’s try talking about this without you swinging around a lit cigarette.”

“Don’t you change the subject,” she snarled as he plucked the paper tube from her fingers and crushed it atop the TV set.

“I’m just trying to prevent a fire.”

“Oh now you’re in the mood to be reasonable? Isn’t that just fucking convenient?”

“Scully, I think you might be overreacting to today’s events just a little.”

“Overreacting?” If looks could kill, Fox Mulder would have already been on the floor. Stepping up so they were chest to chest, she glared daggers up at him.

“You’ve been nothing but flippant, unprofessional, and rude this entire investigation and  _ I’m _ the one that’s overreacting?”

_ Whelp, _ he thought. _ I’m already dead, might as well go for it. _

“Yeah, maybe a little.”

Dana Scully was practically shaking, she was so angry. Swiping the vodka concoction out of his hand, it clunked to the floor, unbroken but slowly leaking alcohol onto the rug.

“Listen here you smug bastard,” but before she could get any more words out, she had shoved him. His knees hit the mattress and swaying, he reached out to catch himself on something--anything, and grabbed her jacket lapels, dragging her down with him. 

With a thud, she landed onto his chest and in the same savage manner that she had assaulted his door and the vodka bottle, she pressed her mouth to his.

He might have tried to say something, were he not so surprised and confused. Because Dana Scully was on top of him, kissing him with a fierce intensity that was almost alarming. When she stopped for breath, he tried to say her name, get her attention, but her mouth was already assaulting his again, biting his lower lip hard enough that he thought he tasted blood.

“Scully,” he managed when she stopped to breathe again and she grabbed his shoulders, forcing them against the mattress.

“Shut up, Mulder.”

And then she was undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt and pulling it off his shoulders, still pressing hard kisses to his mouth, which responded with as much enthusiasm as he could manage. When he tried to undo her blouse, she smacked his hands away and pinned his wrists under her knees, pulling her jacket and blouse off herself, followed closely by her bra.

“Scully,” he tried again and his pants were no match for her nimble fingers as she repeated herself.

“Shut up Mulder.”

With very little assistance on his end, he was entirely nude within moments, though one of her hands was pulling his wallet out of his pants pocket and opening it.

“Scully what the--”

She pulled out his emergency condom and tore it open with practiced efficiency, tossing the wrapper aside as she rolled it over his erection. 

“Shut up Mulder.”

His wrists were no longer pinned by her knees but only because she was pulling off her pants too. When he tried to help, she grabbed his wrists and set them on her breasts. This he could handle; he knew what to do here.

Kneading her breasts, he gently rolled the nipples between his finger and thumb until she put her hands on top of his, squeezing.

“Harder.”

And then she was on top of him and sinking onto his member with force he didn’t expect from someone her size. She was moving and it was doing  _ things _ to him. Dangerous things. Incredible things. Things he should probably not be doing with his partner.

“Scully,” he said again, but this time it was more like a moan. 

Thrusting against him, she wrapped her hands around his hip bones to anchor herself and fucked, hard and fast and with absolute abandon. She did not tell him to shut up. Instead, she groaned his name as she rode him, head thrown back, eyes half-closed.

“Mulder, Mulder, Mulder.”

Oh shit. He wasn’t going to last long if she kept this up. Still, she didn’t slow, didn’t stop. If anything she pounded against him harder as he pinched and twisted at her nipples, letting one go to reach between her legs and press as hard as she was pressing against him.

The noise she made was unholy, it shot heat through his entire body, some combination of moaning and shouting his name. 

“God, Scully.”

There weren’t words coming from her mouth anymore, just a panting moan that rose and fell as his fingers struggled to keep pace with her hips. Mouth open, lipstick smeared, she looked debauched and utterly gorgeous. 

She came with the same hot intensity that she had initiated the contact, her head dropping back as her whole body spasmed. She shouted something that might have been his name and halfway through he was coming as well, thrusting up into her as hard and fast as he could, chasing her down the tunnel towards completion.

Panting, she collapsed onto his chest and he flopped back onto the pillows. 

“Scully,” he began, trying to blink the stars from his vision, but he was interrupted.

“Agent M--oh.” Detective White looked away suddenly, swallowing whatever words she meant to say.

“What is it?” Scully asked, the sharpness of her tone softened somewhat by the fact that she was boneless and naked on top of her partner.

“There’s been another murder. A high school girl was impaled on a shard of mirror.”

“Meet us in the parking lot,” Scully ordered, though it might have sounded more forceful if her voice wasn’t low and somewhat hoarse from shouting her partner’s name a few moments before.

Detective White closed the door and Scully rolled off of her partner, collecting clothes quickly.

“Scully what are you doing?”

“Get dressed, Mulder. There’s been a murder.”

“Yeah I heard. But Scully, what was that?”

“Get dressed.”

When he was tying his tie, trying to keep up with her as she strode down the hall, checking that her gun and badge were in place, he attempted to speak again.

“Scully did we?”

“Shut up, Mulder.”


End file.
